Change Your Partner
by Avirra
Summary: The BAU has been called in by the mayor to assist the SVU on an apparent hate crime. Written for Challenge #23 - The Crossover Challenge
1. Chapter 1

Written for Challenge #23 - The Crossover Challenge

Crossover Character - John Munch, Law & Order : SVU

Assigned CM Character - Derek Morgan

* * *

**Change Your Partner**

**Part I**

_"There's an assumption by many partners that no matter what happens . . ., they'll be partners forever." ~paraphrase of David Gibbs_

The trip to New York City wasn't going to take long for the team, so Hotch didn't waste time getting down to details since the folders had been delivered to the plane immediately prior to takeoff. The team had been scrambled from their homes, so this was their first introduction to the facts of the case they were going to be consulting on.

"We've been requested to come in on a case that started three months ago by the mayor. We have four victims - so far, all murdered and they were all black females with ages varying from the youngest being nineteen to the oldest being 54."

"That's quite a spread of ages," Derek remarked as he shuffled through the crime scene pictures of the victims. "Are the local police sure there's a connection?"

Reid looked up from reviewing his own folder.

"Wait, am I reading correctly that all of the victims are also Jewish?"

Hotch nodded.

"That's why we've been called in so quickly. The odds of there being four black Jewish female victims in such a short period of time in the same area and the murders not being connected are rather extreme."

Reid didn't look up from his folder as he commented.

"Practically astronomical. I don't believe there are any firm statistics on it, but approximately only seven percent of American Jews are noted as being 'of color', but that percentage also includes Native Americans, Asians and Hispanics. Taking that into consideration as well as the fact that all were sexually assaulted post-mortem?"

His face showing his disgust, Rossi closed the folder.

"With that in common, I'd say we're bound to be looking at the same Unsub or group of Unsubs. I take it the media is all over this?"

"Very much so. The detectives of the Special Victims Unit working on the case are going on the assumption that it's a hate crime, but leads have been in short supply. Most of us will be stationed at the Precinct, but two of you are going to be teamed up with the detectives that have been with this case from the beginning. Dave, you're going to be with Detective Tutuola. Derek, you'll be with Detective Munch."

Looking back up from his folder, Derek shook his head.

"Munch? Seriously? Please tell me that's a nickname."

Reopening his folder briefly, Rossi smirked at Derek's comment.

"The name does exist. Somewhere between wife number one and two, I dated a lady named Gwen Munch. She's a New Yorker as well, come to think of it."

"We're be touching down in ten minutes, people.

* * *

Cragen looked over his people. They were all tired, but more than that, they were feeling - disrespected. Insulted even. They had been informed by the mayor - after the fact - that the FBI's assistance had been requested in the form of a visit by the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Even worse, the decision had already been made about breaking up Fin and Munch's partnership so that each man would be teamed with a BAU man. Neither man was happy - nor were Olivia and Elliot as they had been informed that they would be aiding the rest of the BAU in their precinct. As usual, it was Munch who said out loud what most were content to mumble under their breath.

"Kind of reminds me of my second wife. 'Oh hi, honey - you aren't good enough to screw, but we can't afford a motel room, so would you mind scooting over in bed far enough so Jon and I can screw on it?' Only she at least asked first."

Olivia turned around and gave Munch a long look.

"Your second wife had an affair with a guy with the same first name as you?"

Tilting his head back as if studying the ceiling stains for any new developments, Munch made a motion that somehow encompassed a shrug and a nod without really being either.

"He spelled it differently - I'm giving him the benefit of serious doubt in thinking he could actually spell, but yep. Pronounced the same. Made for a bit of awkwardness when it came to her shouting out during orgasms, but such life experiences have made me the well-adjusted individual that I am today."

Olivia neatly nailed Elliot on the forehead with a paper wad when her partner snorted at Munch. Despite his supposed fascination with the ceiling, Munch apparently noted Olivia's toss and smirked, giving her a thumb up for her accuracy. Cragen just stifled a groan.

"Can I ask for a little bit of an attention span, people? Anyway, we actually could use the help since this joker's decided to strike while Dr. Huang is out on medical leave. And since the doctor came to us from the FBI, it's not like we've not skipped down this path before."

"Merrily on our way to Grandmother's House. So when do we meet the wonderkids?"

The door opened before Munch got the last word out of his mouth. Hotch looked over the assembled group before stepping further in and letting the BAU team file in behind him.

"Assuming that you're referring to us, I suppose the answer is 'right now'."

Cragen shot a brief glare at a wholly unrepentant Munch as he walked past to greet the FBI agents.

"I'm Captain Donald Cragen. Sorry about that. We were just given word that you were coming this morning."

"Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. I'm the Unit Chief. We aren't here to ruffle anyone's feathers - we're just here to help."

"These are my detectives - Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson, John Munch and Odafin Tutuola."

"My agents with me - David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid."

Fin looked over the group then shook his head.

"You folks have an agenda or something with always sticking me with an older white partner?"

Munch just gave Fin a pat on his shoulder as he passed by his partner.

"If they'd stuck you with the young doctor, you'd be complaining that they always team you with a skinny white guy. Deal with with, Fin."

Stopping in front of Derek, Munch offered him a hand.

"I'm told that you're the one stuck with me. I'd warn you about my track record with partners, but this is a temporary assignment, so maybe that will exempt you from the side effects. Most of these bozos call me Munch. I will be your tour guide to the wonderful world of Yiddish and Gefilte fish."

"Just call me Morgan. Think we can start by going to where the last body was found?"

"A man that likes to dive straight in, eh? Sure. Why not? I haven't been in a germ encrusted alley for over an hour. I'm about to have withdrawals."

As Munch was heading to grab his coat and hat, Fin ignored the rest of the BAU team and headed straight for Derek himself. It was hard to tell if Cragen or Hotch was the most wary about that happening, but for the moment, neither man moved to intervene. Without any preamble or greeting, Fin gestured toward Munch while getting very close to Derek.

"That man there? I normally have his back. Now I've got to trust that you're going to watch it, so let me tell you this. I expect that scrawny white ass to be returned in the same condition you're seeing it in right now. We understand one another?"

Derek just straightened, eyes narrowing and not backing down a fraction of an inch from the scowling detective who was currently way too far into his personal zone.

"Yes."

"You'll learn to appreciate the over dramatic qualities of my partner here, Morgan. Assuming the two of you don't have a showdown on a dusty street out west. Quit playing cowboy with my temp, Fin."

Munch came back over, briefly putting a hand on Fin's shoulder. Fin backed slightly from Derek and returned the gesture.

"Watch your ass out there, John."

"I will. Getting shot there once was plenty. Play nice with your new partner and try not to mess up his nice shoes. They probably cost more than we clear a year."

"Get outta here."

Smirking at his partner before pushing his dark glasses back up his nose, Munch headed for the door with Derek shooting a 'what the hell have you gotten me into?' look over to Hotch.

Honestly? Hotch had no answer for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II**

Munch pulled a set of keys out of his pocket as they exited the building, then stopped, turning to look at Derek.

"Forgot to ask. Do you know how to drive, Morgan?"

The question took Derek off guard for a second.

"Sure. Who doesn't?

Lobbing the keys over to Morgan who nearly fumbled them before catching, Munch just shrugged.

"Me, for one. Looks like you get the driver's seat."

Staring at the keys for a minute, Derek followed Munch over to the car.

"You seriously don't drive?"

"I seriously don't. I'm a New Yorker with four ex-wives to support. Cars aren't in the picture for my future. Besides which, cars here are more nuisance than necessity."

Looking over the rooftop at Munch as he unlocked the car, Derek quirked a smile.

"Four ex-wives? You should have been the one they paired with Rossi. You've got him beat by one ex-wife."

As he slid into the passenger seat, Munch shook his head.

"Why team him with me? Neither of us need to know how to screw up a marriage, so we don't need to exchange notes. So – not a New York City guy yourself, so where do you hail from, Morgan."

"Chicago. Why?"

"Hey, you know what they say. Inquiring minds want to know. When you pull out, four blocks straight, then hang a right."

"Were you serious about getting shot in the butt?"

"Ah, another inquiring mind. Why would I lie about something like that? There are plenty of less embarrassing places to claim to be shot if I was out to impress anyone. Which I'm not. Okay – six blocks, a left, then look for a place to park."

"So, you were also serious about the partner warning?"

"Semi. I have had a variety. Fin and I have been together for awhile though, so maybe I changed my luck. I used to work Homicide in Baltimore. Let me see – Bolander retired on me, Russert quit after she got knocked up by a French diplomat, Kellerman quit after a questionable shooting and Bayliss killed himself, Cassidy transferred to Narcotics Division and Jefferies went over to Vice Squad. That's not counting one night stands such as yourself."

"One night stands? Does the traffic always suck this badly?"

"That's all that can be between us, Morgan. I belong to Fin now. And yeah. Well, sometimes there's not a traffic jam around 3 am, but even then, I wouldn't bet it. And if you think driving is bad, wait until you try to find a place to park."

"I think I'm beginning to see your point about car driving being a nuisance around here."

"Another convert. Right there. It's a fifteen minute spot, but I think I could strong arm the meter maid into giving us a little extra time if we need it."

Derek ended up being cussed out in at least two languages he didn't recognize by the time he maneuvered into the parking space. Munch just called out 'have a nice day' and turned his back to the new spewing of profanity that elicited.

"Our last victim was found down this piece of alleyway. Dump site. We haven't located the actual murder site yet on any of our victims. For all we know, he/she or it may be using the same site to take them to. So far, there's been a gap of between twenty-four and thirty-six hours between the last known sighting and the discovery of the body."

Coming to a stop, clasping his hands in front of himself, Munch looked to the side of the dumpster.

"Another thing all of them have had in common is that they've all been left by a dumpster or some other trash receptacle. The bodies have also been left in what could best be described as lewd positions."

That brought a frown to Derek's face.

"I don't recall that on the first victim."

"Found by a rookie cop who had respect for the dead but not for a crime scene. All we have to go on from that one is his description of how the body was when he first saw it. At the time, of course, we had no idea that we weren't looking at an isolated incident."

Checking further down the alleyway, Derek noticed a few spraypainted symbols and began to look at them closer. Munch watched him for a moment before commenting.

"Those were there before the body was found."

Curious, Derek looked back over to Munch.

"How are you so sure?"

"Not my first time in this alley. Fin and I had to cover it about five months back on a different case. Those were there then. Fashion changes, but spraypaint is forever."

* * *

Back at the precinct, Olivia was perched and watching as Reid was making notations on a white board as he consulted the large map which he'd marked with various pins. Reid stepped back a bit, a frown forming as he spoke softly to himself.

"Something isn't fitting. It doesn't make sense."

He startled just a bit when Olivia spoke - Reid had been concentrating so much that he'd forgotten she was there.

"Whoever's doing this must be disturbed. Maybe there is no sense to it."

"Oh there is. It might only make sense to them, but it makes sense. Thing is, it almost seems like the women are - incidental."

Eyes narrowing, Olivia's voice got colder.

"You trying to tell me that these women didn't matter?"

His concentration still on the board, Reid didn't pick up in her change in tone.

"Look at the reports. The women were taken - some more roughly than others granted. None of them stayed alive more than two hours after their last sightings. The vast majority of violence done to the bodies after death. A message maybe? But not to their communities, so who is it for?"

Some of the pieces were starting to move together in Reid's mind and his voice had an edge of excitement to it as he allowed the stream of consciousness to flow. To Olivia, it felt like he wasn't taking these deaths seriously enough. It seemed like this was all some sort of game to him and that frankly pissed her off.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're a cold-hearted son of a bitch, Doctor Reid?"

J.J. was coming over with a fresh cup of coffee for Reid and was just close enough to hear what was said. She gave Olivia a glare before going to Reid, touching his arm lightly before heading over to a table.

"I brought plenty of sugar packets. I can never remember how many to put in."

She waited until he was almost in a rhythm of opening and emptying sugar packets before she spoke again. Her voice was soft, but Olivia could still hear what J.J. was saying.

"Spence? Remember what this is all about. Why are you doing this?"

He took a deep breath and reached for another sugar packet.

"For the living. For the ones out there that we might be able to keep the Unsub from hurting."

Stirring his coffee, then taking a long, grateful sip, Reid looked back to the board.

"The women were taken from all over including one from New Jersey, but . . ."

Without warning, Reid turned to Olivia.

"All the bodies were found in this precinct, weren't they?"

Before she could answer, Cragen called out.

"Just got a call. A woman and her six year old daughter were taken as they were walking home from their Synagogue."

Hotch came over to join J.J. and Reid at the map. The door opened, Rossi and Tutuola entering. They came over toward the map as Hotch filled them in quickly.

"We have a woman with less than two hours left and a child involved as well. We need to figure this out fast."


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III  
**  
Munch was about to head back out of the alley when both his and Derek's phones went off. Pulling his out as he glanced over to Derek, Munch shook his head.

"Phones going off in unison. That never means good things."

Derek found himself agreeing as he listened to Hotch's voice filling him in on the missing mother and daughter. Munch finished his call first, sliding his phone back into his pocket when a voice from the head of the alley drew his attention.

"Detective Munch. I've got some information for you and your partner."

Hearing the unknown voice echoing down the alley, Derek put his own phone away and moved a bit closer to Munch, hand easing closer to his weapon. The man paused as he took a long look at Derek.

"Hey, that's not Tutuola."

"You got it on your first try. Very good. You must have been paying very close attention to Sesame Street when they covered that 'one of these things is not like the other' stuff. Do I know you?"

The man ignored Munch's question, instead asking one of his own.

"So where's Tutuola? You two are practically married."

"Your grapevine must have wilted. I'm filing for divorce. Tutuola left me for a rich Italian, so I picked up a new dance partner. Now can we leave that subject behind and get to whatever the hell you wanted to say to me?"

The man hesitated again, then made a gesture toward the dumpster. "I know a guy that says he can give you some details on who you're looking for with the dead women."

Eyes narrowing a bit, Derek moved up a bit more. "So why isn't this guy here telling us this himself?"

"What can I say? He's not a trusting sort. He wants to talk to you, but he's not interested in drawing a crowd. So if you want to talk with him, leave your electronics here in your squad and come with me. You can keep the weapons, but not the electronics. And you come now or not at all. No contacting anyone else."

"How do we know he has any information we can actually use? We don't have time to waste chasing after a Deep Throat wannabe."

Looking nervously behind him for a moment, the man licked his lips. "He told me to tell you there's a kid involved. A young girl – around kindergarten age. Now, you coming or not?"

Munch turned his head slightly, looking over the top of his dark glasses to meet Derek's eyes.

"Cragen won't like this."

"Neither will Hotch." Derek paused for a moment, then spoke again. "She's six years old."

Munch nodded. They were on the same wavelength.

"We're coming."

The man backed away from the alley and watched quietly as Munch and Derek took their phones out and laid them next to each other on the passenger seat of their car before locking the doors. The man moved over and looked through the window to verify that they were there, then motioned the pair to follow him over to where another car was waiting.

Derek had a bad feeling about all of this and knew from his expression that Munch did as well. Still, at least they were both still armed. Munch slid into the backseat first, muttering softly to Derek.

"This is uncomfortably like a Francis Ford Coppola movie."

* * *

At the precinct, Fin moved over to where Reid was silently studying the map, while holding open the folder with the details on how the victims and their possessions were found.

"Slow reader, doc?"

Reid just smiled slightly as he glanced over to Fin. One thing about having been side by side with Derek, Fin didn't intimidate him the way he likely would have when he first started with the BAU.

"I don't think I can be considered that. No, just trying to see a pattern."

"Looks more like buckshot than a pattern."

Hotch moved over to where the two men where talking.

"I just spoke to Morgan. He said there were some symbols spray painted in the alley where the last victim's body was found, but that Detective Munch said that those had been there for awhile. He sent along a picture any way."

Fin craned his head and nodded. Reid glanced at the picture as well, his concentrated look deepening.

"Yeah, John's right. Those aren't new. That body wasn't our first time down that alley. Last time was around half a year ago, I guess. You know, maybe it's the lighting, but the markings look - newer. Brighter."

"Like someone might have gone back and gone back over them with fresh paint?"

"Yeah. Could be.

As he shifted his gaze back to looking at the map, Reid began to think out loud again, ignoring the sigh coming from Olivia.

"All of the women's possessions other than their clothing were found in the trash containters that were nearest the bodies, including jewelry. Purifying . . ."

Rossi caught Reid's last word as he approached the board himself.

"What do you mean, purifying?"

"Well, I'm not sure about the significance of the other marks, but this one mark that was in the alley is an alchemetical symbol for purification."

Fin and Hotch turned their heads toward Reid in near unison.

"But the markings were already there."

"Were all of the same identical markings already there? Or might the newer looking ones have been painted over older different ones?"

Brow furrowed, Fin asked to relook at the image again.

"I couldn't say for sure. Marks didn't turn out to be related to our other case either so far as we could tell. There are always marks popping up. One thing I can tell you. If when we first looked at thos marks, if any of them had had a weird meaning, John probably would have noticed that. Man is a walking trivia dumpsite."

"You sure he might not have just forgotten to mention it? Maybe he was distracted?"

Fin chuckled a bit. "Not my partner, Rossi. John's never been so distracted that he quit talking. Not even when he's been shot. Besides, he'd have spun a whole new conspiracy theory over a symbol like that."

"Not to mention linking it back to the Warren Commission," Elliot piped up from the sidelines.

"Easiest thing would be to just ask him."

Olivia picked up her phone and dialed Munch. It wasn't long before she was frowning.

"Guys? Munch isn't picking up."

Hotch quickly hit Derek's number and the depth of his frown told them he wasn't getting a response either.

"J.J.? Get Garcia on the line. I want their phones traced immediately."


	4. Chapter 4

**Part IV**

Their driver/escort and possible kidnapper was remaining annoyingly quiet, but seemed jittery. Munch glanced out over the passing scenery, not turning his head as he spoke to Derek.**  
**  
"So, you ever like me in getting the feeling that you should just have shot your alarm clock this morning and stayed in bed?"

Derek cast a wry look toward Munch. The man seemed like he was rarely at loss for a snark.

"Have to admit that this day is looking like one of those. You know, it might just be me, but I think our driver is a little nervous."

"Really?"

Munch seemed to take an intense interest in the back of the man's head.

"You look like a man with problems. Likely just the rays affecting you. This is the worst time of day to be out in them. You should really consider trying aluminum foil. Molds well to your skull or with a little imagination and patience, you could even make a stylish hat. Or just buy a stylish hat and line it. That's what I do. Blocks the control rays. You need that especially if you're ever driving in Jersey because the rays are stronger there. Can you imagine anyone actually living there if they weren't being told to? Face it, doesn't it explain any questions you've ever had about 'Jersey Shores'?"

It was hard to say which man was made more nervous by Munch's ramblings, but the car did swerve a little. For his part, Munch seemed not to notice as he continued speaking in a tone of voice that reminded Derek of a guest speaker at a school.

"Dark glasses help too. Of course, you'd know that if you ever watched any of the Men in Black movies. Odd, isn't it? You can make the best advice in the world seem fake just by sticking it into a movie. I'm embarrassed to say that I told the other guys that a ploy like that would never work. Goes to show what I knew back then about human nature. Eh, we live and learn, right Morgan?"

"Right. So, we've been riding awhile now. We still in New York?"

Not for the first time, Derek was wondering what Hotch had landed him in, but he figured agreeing with Munch was keeping the man off-balance and that they could, quite frankly, use any edge they could get.

"Still in New York, just not in Manhattan any more. Heading into Brooklyn."

"Shut up back there."

"Is that any way to introduce my new partner to the warmth of the New York experience? The man's from Shytown. I'm just trying to acquaint him with the myriad wonders that make up the New York scene."

The man muttered something they couldn't make out, but then Munch's eyes narrowed as he looked out the window again.

"I might be mistaken, but I think we're heading into Crown Heights."

"I said shut up back there!"

As before, Derek ignored the man.

"Something significant about Crown Heights, Munch?"

"Yeah. I was in Baltimore at the time, but back in '91 there was a major clash between the black and Jewish factions. Looting, robbery, vehicles destroyed, injuries and I think around three dead."

The building they were pulling alongside of had a chain-link fence surrounding it and was boarded up with grafitti covering most exposed surfaces. While the fence looked secure, the chain around the back gate no longer had a lock attached to it.

"Both of you - out. We're here."

Munch and Derek exchanged another look then got out of the car as directed. Derek led the way through the gate and toward the building itself. Eyes fixed on the mark, Munch spoke just loudly enough for Derek to hear him.

"Alchemetical symbol over the door."

"Looks like the same one I saw in the alley."

"You saw that one in the alley?"

"Yeah. Place where you said there had been markings before."

"Markings, yes. That marking? No."

At the near growl behind them, they fell silent as Derek stepped inside the building. The man was the last through and shut the door behind him, leaving them in near total darkness.

Once all three were in the dark, a spotlight snapped on, blinding all of them. A moment later, a new voice called out.

"Couldn't I trust you to even get this right, Clary? That's not Tutuola."

"I know but -"

A shot rang out. Derek felt something warm and damp hit him as the copper tang of blood reached his nose. He heard something fall to the floor. The spotlight remained on, but it was tilted so it was no longer directly his eyes.

The first thing Derek noticed was the spray of gore on his shirt. He thought he could recognize the fleshier parts as bits of brain matter and was pretty sure someone was dead. He knew he hadn't been hit, so he was afraid Munch might have been the one killed until he felt a hand on his arm and heard Munch's voice.

"Morgan? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but -"

Their vision was clearing more now and soon they could see the man that they now knew to be Clary was the one down. They had both been hit by the spatter of the gunshot to Clary's head. All they looked down at the obviously dead man silently, all they could hear was the sound of their own breathing and the soft sobs of a frightened young girl.

* * *

Garcia quickly came back with the address of the area that the phones were currently at. Fin frowned.

"Your woman sure of that?"

On speaker phone, Garcia heard the question.

"Their woman is positive. I know Derek's phone well and the two signals are not only together, they aren't moving."

"That's where John was taking your man Morgan. Where we found the last body."

"Dave, I'm going there with you and Tutuola to see why they aren't picking up. Reid - J.J. - keep searching."

Fin drove the trio to the alley, pulling in behind the car that Derek and Munch had taken. He beat Rossi and Hotch to the car, dialing Munch's number as he moved. He could hear Munch's phone going off inside and slapped the roof of the car in anger.

"John's phone and what i'd guess to be your man's phone are on the passenger seat. Damn."

Eyes narrowing, Fin looked over the neighborhood, heading for one of the small shops nearby. Rossi and Hotch exchanged a glance then followed after the fast moving detective. The owner and Fin were in the middle of a conversation when they got within hearing.

"No, I swear I never saw that guy before. His back was to me most of the time. Standing looking down the alley, you know? Anyway, after awhile Munch comes out with this other guy I've not seen around either. They open up the car for a minute, lock it up and then head down the street to another car. They climb into the backseat, other guy gets in and they all drive off."

"And you didn't call anyone?"

"What about? I never saw any weapons and the guy didn't seem to be forcing Munch to do anything. He did seem nervous though."

"Munch did?"

"Naw. I don't think a zombie attack would make Munch look any different than he usually does. I meant the guy that was looking down the alley. He was constantly wiping his hands off on his pants or running a hand through his hair. Almost twitchy, y'know?"

Rossi broke in.

"Can you tell us anything about the car?"

"Four door. Not old, but not really new either. Maybe five years back. Dark blue. Can't swear to it, but I think it was a Ford Fusion."

"Catch any of the plate?"

"Sorry. Too far away. My eyes aren't what they used to be, y'know?"

"Okay then – how about our mystery man?"

"Tall. Little taller than Munch, so maybe six foot two or three. White, but not real pale. Dark blond hair, styled kind of like your guy there, but a little longer."

He indicated Hotch at the last remark before continuing.

"Khaki cargo pants, dark grey sneakers, red long-sleeve top. Nothing that made him stand out."

"Thanks. Still got my number if you remember anything else?"

"Yeah, I got it. Hey, there was one thing."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Heard the guy speak to them when he was directing them to the car. Sounded like a Brooklyn accent."

Rossi kept his voice low as he spoke to Hotch.

"Wasn't the first victim kidnapped from the Brooklyn area?"

Nodding, Hotch confirmed that even as the implications sank in. He still wasn't sure why the pair would have gone with the man, but there had to have been a reason - or a weapon their witness hadn't seen. While he didn't know Detective Munch, Captain Cragen had described him as eccentric, but highly reliable. And while Morgan might throw himself into a situation without a great deal of fore-thought, he tended to be protective of anyone that he was teamed with.

The worst of the possibilities running through Hotch's mind was that there was a chance that Morgan and Munch were currently in the hands of their unsub.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part V **

Derek resisted the urge to try and brush the gore off of himself as he looked toward the source of the sound. He could now make out where the young girl was, but not many details on her. What stood out the most were the splotches of blood on her bright yellow dress. Derek hated the thought of what the girl might have already been forced to watch and where that blood might have come from.

The man - in all likelihood, their unsub - remained in the shadows as he spoke.

"So - you have a new partner, Detective Munch?"

"This guy? Hardly. He's an observer from out of town. Chicago PD."

"So you are still teamed with Tutuola?"

"Yep. We're still the hot ticket in town. He's got his own visitor to babysit. Listen, I don't know the exact nature of your complaint with me and Tutuola, but –"

"You aren't following the agenda!"

Derek forced himself not to cringe at the man's tone. Whatever hold on sanity the man had was apparently slipping fast. Still, he decided that they need to press just a little more and find out exactly what they were dealing with.

"Maybe it's because I'm from out of town, but I've never heard of an agenda."

"1991 – it was supposed to be the start of it. My father always told me that the baser races would turn on one another and wipe themselves from the planet for us. It began here, in Crown Heights, but something went wrong and the rioting stopped. And then it became worse. Intermingling. Like you two!"

"Hey, he and I aren't intermingled. I told you, man's an out-of-towner. We haven't even known each other that long and we already don't get along. Guy thinks Chicago is so damn perfect, I don't know why he bothered leaving it in the first place. No sense of what partnering up means. He'd probably trade me for the girl in a heartbeat."

Derek shot a scowl over at Munch. He was pretty sure what the detective was trying to pull and he didn't approve in the least. For his part, Munch was hoping this loser could put one and one together enough to make two. It was apparent that he was up to one and a half when he spoke, but it was more like he was speaking to himself than to them.

"That might start a spark on the powder keg. Except she's Jewish too."

Munch had no qualms about breaking in on the man, whether he was speaking to them or not.

"Oh please. She's too young to be considered anything. She's at least six years away from even being considered for a bat mitzvah."

There was a rhythmic tapping as the man seemed to be considering. Derek took the chance and spoke under his breath to Munch, hoping his voice wouldn't carry over the other noises.

"Man, don't do this."

The response back was just as soft.

"She's only six, Morgan."

It still bothered Derek, but he couldn't say with any degree of honestly that he wouldn't be thing the same way if the situation was reversed. The silence stretched and the only noises were the tapping from the man and the hiccupping noises coming from the girl.

"You. Chicago. You have your own cuffs?"

"I do."

"Use them on the Jew. We'll trade – I keep him, you get the brat. Agreed?"

Drawing a deep breath, Derek nodded and played along with what Munch had begun.

"Agreed. Not like he means anything to me."

"Excellent. Hands behind his back. I have my gun aimed at the girl, so nothing funny."

Pulling out his cuffs, Derek moved over to Munch.

"You heard the man. Hands behind."

It didn't require any acting on Munch's part to appear disgruntled about being cuffed. Just because he was willing to be traded for the girl didn't mean he liked it.

"Turn him around so that I can see the cuffs are in place. Good. Now walk him backwards over next to the girl."

Getting Munch backed to where the man wanted him was awkward as hell. Even worse for Derek as he was finally getting close enough to look the girl in her eyes. She was obviously terrified and Derek had a sick feeling he knew at least some of what had done that to her. From what he could tell, none of the blood on her was her own. If the blood belonged to her mother? He doubted she was still alive and the odds were good that the daughter had watched her mother die.

"Leave him - take the girl."

Derek quickly swept the unprotesting girl up into his arms. After a few seconds, she reacted and clung onto him like a lifeline.

"When you leave, tell the others that if anyone comes here other than Tutuola, I will open fire on them. As for Tutuola?"

In the closed space, the gunshot seemed as loud as a cannon to Derek. He kept the girl tight to him, trying to shield her from what he was afraid to look at himself. Munch was on the ground and in obvious pain, but due to the lighting, Derek couldn't tell exactly where the detective had been hit or how badly he was bleeding.

"You tell Tutuola he only has a limited time if he plans on seeing his partner again outside of a morgue."

* * *

Hotch was on speaker phone to the precinct, filling them in on Morgan and Munch being missing as well as the fact that the man that they were last seen with could have been from Brooklyn. Reid shifted his gaze to the spot where the first victim had last been seen.

"Alright - victim one was last seen here, but from what witnesses say, she was taken after she left, though we don't know where. Do we know where she was likely headed?"

Elliot moved over and took a moment to get his bearings on the map before pointing.

"We were told two places she might have been going to. First is here - this is the apartment building she lived in. Second is here - her sister lives here."

"Both in the same general area. She often walked where she was going?"

"According to her family, pretty much. Only tended to take a cab in bad weather or an emergency."

"So, if she's a regular at walking, odds are that she would know and use the shortest route to get to where she was going . . . "

Using pins to mark the most likely intersections she would have crossed at, Reid began to run a piece of yarn from pin to pin to mark the route she most likely walked. Once he had the yarn up to the point where her path would have changed depending on where she had actually been headed, Reid looked away from the board to the detectives before picking up his phone and starting to text.

"Maybe there's something about the area itself? Garcia - still on the speaker?"

"Yes, Peaches. What can the goddess of technology pull out of the world-wide web for you?"

"I'm sending you over a set of directions. See if anything pops up about the area, please?"

"Anything specific I'm looking for?"

"Not yet, but maybe we can narrow it down . . ."

Reid looked back to Elliot who was still by the map. Elliot let his finger trace along the yarn lightly as he spoke.

"Crown Heights area. I was overseas at the time, but wasn't there some sorta riot there back in 91?"

Coming over a little closer, Cragen nodded.

"Yeah, I was working out of the 27th when that happened. The African-American community and the Jewish community in the area went at it for three days. It was a big mess."

The speaker phone came back to life with Garcia's voice.

"Speaking of that little tidbit, I have found a possible place to examine more closely, my ducklings. Part of the route you sent to me included the intersection of President Street and Utica Avenue - which also happens to have been where the traffic accident occurred that sparked off that riot."

Leaning back against a desk, Elliot shrugged.

"If the targets were just black or just Jewish, I could get the connection maybe, but I don't see where this goes with what we're working with."

Moving in closer, J.J. added in her thoughts.

"What if someone on one or the other community is still angry about it? Maybe they're viewing the women who are part of both communities as being a traitor by not being purely one or the other?"

Cragen frowned a bit.

"That almost makes a warped kind of sense. But why wait close to twenty-one years to act out on it?"

Resting his chin on his closed fist, Reid thought that through for a moment.

"I would tend to believe that either the number 21 holds significance for the unsub or that a stressor set him off. Possibly the death of someone that was affected somehow by the riots."

Resting a hand briefly on Elliot's shoulder, Cragen decided it was time to have a chat with the 71st precinct.

"I'll be in my office. I'm going to talk with the captain over at Brooklyn SVU. Maybe they can take another look at that corner. If they narrow down their questioning to that area, they might have better luck with finding a witness."


	6. Chapter 6

**Part VI**

Much as Derek disliked the situation he was in, his priority was to the young girl in his arms. She was trembling against him so he took a moment to remove the windbreaker he'd been wearing and wrap it around her. That also had the advantage of covering most of the blood on her and it was a dark enough color that the gore on it wasn't immediately obvious. Derek wished he had something clean to put around her. He didn't want to draw a crowd and scare her any worse than she already was. He needed to find a phone quickly though.

The area was hardly isolated so Derek wondered for a moment why the gunshot hadn't drawn attention - then the jackhammer started up on the next block. A construction site. Figured. A patrol car caught his eye and he quickly flagged them down, shifting his hold on the girl to pull out his ID.

"FBI. I need to get in touch with Manhattan SVU immediately. There's an officer from their precinct down and being held hostage nearby."

Hotch, Rossi and Tutuola were already in route to Brooklyn when the radio call was relayed to Captain Cragen. He immediately called Fin.

"Fin - head to Crown Heights. Agent Morgan is with a patrol car and has the young girl with him."

There was a name missing and Fin didn't miss that.

"Where's John?"

The pause told Fin that he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear.

"John's been hurt. We don't know how badly, but apparently the killer is holding him hostage. You'll be getting the details from Agent Morgan when you meet up with him."

"Damn right I'll be getting details from him."

"Just keep your temper in line, Fin - remember they're on our side."

"I'll believe that after I hear why he left my partner with that lunatic."

Hotch and Rossi exchanged a glance as they'd only heard half of the conversation, but just from that it was obvious that Derek had been located. Hotch's phone went off just as Fin was hanging up. He glanced at the display before answering.

"Talk to me, Reid."

"Derek is alright. He is with a patrol car in Brooklyn's Crown Heights area and has the little girl with him. We don't know the details, but he reported an officer down and being held hostage - we're assuming that is Detective Munch. There wasn't any word on the missing woman either. Are you headed to meet Derek?"

"We are. I'll give you a call back once we have more information."

As he hung up, Hotch noted that if the expression on Detective Tutuola's face was anything to go by, they might be having to keep the detective off of Derek.

At the patrol car, Derek was having trouble with his feelings on everything as well. The girl was still clinging to him and he didn't have the desire or the heart to coax her to let go. But his thoughts were really back on Munch. Derek was pretty sure the Munch and Tutuola had a relationship very similar to the one he had with Reid. Then he thought about how he'd be reacting if Reid had been partnered with a stranger. And that stranger had left Reid behind, wounded with a known killer.

Looking back down at the girl he still had cradled in his arms, Derek knew that if Reid had offered himself in place of the girl that part of him would understand, but also knew that he would still be pissed at whoever had allowed Reid to make that choice. All of which told him that he was going to be facing a very angry man in the very near future.

When the SUV carrying Tutuola, Hotch and Rossi pulled up, Derek wasn't disappointed. He could read Tutuola's body language well enough to know that the only thing preventing him from being slammed against the patrol car was the girl in his arms.

Even with the girl's presence, Fin got close.

"One question, Morgan. Why?"

"Munch . . . traded himself."

There was no way to say more with the girl right there, but Tutuola got the message and swore under his breath. His voice then went to a far more gentle tone as he spoke to the child.

"Hi there. You must be Bracha, right?"

The girl sniffled and pulled slightly away from Derek to look at Fin, a very faint smile on her face even though tears were still running down her face.

"You said it right. Most folks can't."

"Well, my partner's Jewish. I've picked up a few things hanging around him."

"Is he the one that stayed?"

"Yeah. He is."

The girl's crying became more pronounced.

"He told the bad man that I wasn't Jewish. I am! Why did he say that?"

Derek started speaking before Fin could say a word.

"Because he was afraid that the bad man might hurt you. Detective Munch wanted to get you away from him."

"Because the man hurt my momma?"

"Yes. So don't be mad at him about what he said, okay?"

"Okay. Are you going to get him away from the bad man too?"

Derek hesitated and Fin suddenly realized just what was staining the windbreaker that was wrapped around Bracha. His heart sank when he realized she didn't ask them to save her mother. Fin hated to think of what this six year old had been forced to see, but managed to give her a smile.

"We're going to do everything we can. Our job is to catch the bad folks that hurt other people."

It took a little more doing to assure Bracha that it would be alright to go to the hospital with the paramedics that the patrol had called for, but after both Fin and Derek promised her that they'd come to see her and bring Munch along as well. Derek swore to himself that that was a promise that was going to be kept.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part VII**

Munch was doing his best to try and focus his breathing and stay calm. If his hands weren't locked behind his back, he could get a better idea of how badly he was bleeding and possibly try to do something about it. As it was, all he could really judge by was the 'pins-and-needles' feeling of his leg and how much blood he could see on the ground near him. Thankfully, not a large amount, but still, just the thought of the number of germs from the filthy floor that might be invading his body made his stomach churn. But the appeal of having to lie next to his own vomit was extremely limited, so back to focusing on his breathing to try and prevent that occurrence.

It was a side effect of his concentration that he ended up ignoring the man's ranting. Unfortunately, the man noticed that Munch wasn't reacting to anything he was saying adn took offense. He landed a kick on Munch's wounded leg that made the detective's vision black out for a minute.

"Pay attention to your betters!"

Sucking in a breath as his vision cleared again, Munch looked up to his captor.

"Sure thing. Just let me know when any of them show up."

That earned him a boot in his ribs. Munch didn't think he felt anything give, but he'd be sure to have a memorable bruise if nothing else.

"You are lucky I still require you alive for a little longer."

"If this is lucky, I think I need to replace my four-leaf clover."

The next blow to his head pushed him over the edge and the burst of pain at the back of his skull was the last thing he felt before his consciousness fled.

* * *

Derek was able to pinpoint for them on the map where the building was they had been taken to - and where at least one and probably two dead bodies were located. There was no telling if the man was still there with Munch or not. Fin ventured his opinion that, so long as Munch was awake, moving him to another location wouldn't be an uncomplicated task.

The Baltimore SVU unit was giving full cooperation and had a speaker setup so that they could speak directly with the rest of the team at Manhattan SVU. Reid was had been listening while consulting the map again.

"Since the unsub seems to be rather fixated on the team of Detectives Tutuola and Munch, it would seem counter-intuitive for him to move Detective Munch while he's still trying to get Detective Tutuola."

Olivia was still miffed at Reid from earlier and muttered something under her breath that couldn't quite be heard, but the tone was enough to cause both Cragen and J.J. to send a scowl her way. For his part, Reid kept his eyes where they were as he added a new pin to the map.

"If you would prefer me to scream and rant for a few minutes over what has happened and lose time in the process, I could certainly do so, Detective Benson. However, I would personally prefer to have a nice quiet breakdown after we get all of our people back if that's alright with you. I'm certain you have to compartmentalize yourself in order to get through some cases, so kindly allow the rest of us our own coping mechanisms."

Elliot narrowed his eyes, but a look from Cragen backed him down.

"He happens to be right so both of you stow it. Dr. Reid and Agent Jareau are on the same side we are. And Munch would be where he is regardless . You two **do** remember Emily McKenna and how Munch was with her? After that, either of you seriously doubt that he didn't what he did for that six year old girl willingly?"

Both J.J. and Reid noted that, whatever the case had been about, Captain Cragen speaking about it made both detectives shake their heads. Benson even looked slightly embarrassed. She moved closer to where Reid was before speaking and J.J. made sure she moved closer herself. Just in case. But she found she didn't have to worry as the detective started to speak.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Reid - I was out of line. It's - well, it's Munch in that hostage situation. You don't know what that's like."

At that, Reid did turn his concentration away from the board and met her eyes directly. There was an odd expresssion on his face that Benson couldn't quite read.

"Is that what you think, Detective Benson? Well, you're wrong."

Without further elaboration, Reid started coordinating with the Baltimore group again, listening to their suggestions for sealing off the area as he added in is own thoughts.

"The wild card here is what he will do once he has - or thinks he has - Detective Tutuola. We're still not certain if he has a grudge against the two of them personally or if he focused on them solely because of what they symbolize for him."

Derek's voice came over. He had had to step away for a moment when he'd heard what was said to Reid.

"I think we're looking at a combination of the two, Reid. If he was just looking to do something to a Jewish cop/black cop combination, he could have just kept me. But he was very fixed on Tutuola. He shot his accomplice in the head as soon as he noticed the guy hadn't brought Tutuola to him. Then again, part of that might be because of Detective Munch. He identified me to the man as being from Chicago PD. Maybe he just wants to use New York natives for whatever he's got planned."

"He knew you were from Chicago?"

"What, J.J.? Munch and I had a chat. He counted ex-wives and I told him about Chicago. He's got Rossi beat by one, by the way."

Reid smirked as they made out Rossi's voice in the background.

"He's got the lead and he's welcome to keep it."

Garcia's unmistakable voice came over the speakers.

"Breaking news, my little chickadees. I believe that with the information and suppositions our doctor has sent across, I may well have a name to bestow upon our unsub."

"Well, don't keep it a secret, prety lady. who are we dealing with?"

"Check your phones, information downloads will be coming your way even as I speak. We are looking at Mister Conrad Shoemaker. His grandfather changed the family name from Schuhmacher when he, his wife and their five year old son immigrated into the United States following the end of the second World War. The family once leased the building where Detective Munch was and presumably is still being held at. Plus, three guesses as to how old Conrad was during the Crown Heights riot?

"Twenty-one?"

"And for coming up with the correct answer, once more I owe our good Doctor a cup of sugar with a little coffee in it. As to why said building is now boarded up, let's just say that if a store is located in a multi-ethnic neighborhood, it isn't good for business for word to get out that your store's founder was a Nazi. And considering the current situation, I think we could safely say that neither the apple nor the grand-apple fell far from the family tree."

Hotch's face was stern as he spoke toward the speaker.

"So he could have practically grown up in that building. No telling what he might have hidden or stockpiled in there."

"I have another link I'm sending you, my dears. It seems our Mister Shoemaker is at least somewhat internet savvy and has his own little section of the web spewing vitriol."

Derek nodded slowly.

"Not a surprise. From listening to some of his exchanges with Munch, I think he's hoping that me trading a Jewish cop for a black girl is going to set off another set of riots."

Reid's voice was thoughtful as he responded back.

"That would make sense in a fashion. In his mind, the first riot didn't get it right so he's back in the area to see if he can make them get it right this time. He's already been building tension and nerves with the murders."

Looking to Tutuola, Hotch considered him briefly before speaking again.

"We might just have to give the man exactly what he wants then."


	8. Chapter 8

**Part VIII  
**  
Reid and Garcia were the coordinators for Hotch's plan. While not everyone was in agreement as to whether or not it would work, they were all in agreement that they were running out of time if there was any hope of getting Detective Munch back alive and no-one had a better plan to put forward. As it was, they were already having trouble keeping Tutuola from heading off to deal with the man on his own.

Neither Stabler or Benson cared for it, but since their killer was in Brooklyn's territory, they remained at the precinct with J.J. and Reid, forced, like them, to be on the sidelines during the actual attempt to resolve the situation. In all, it took them two hours to complete the preparations. Finally, Tutuola and Morgan were getting on their kevlar vests. Doing a last check on his weapon, Morgan met Tutuola's eyes.

"Let's go get our partner back."

There was a momentary pause as Tutuola studied Morgan, then a faint smirk formed.

"Yeah. Let's go do that."

* * *

As consciousness slowly and painfully returned to him, Munch had the vague hope that at least he might be alone. No such luck. The nauseatingly familiar voice wasn't far away.

"Your partner is very late in coming. Shows how foolish you were to rely on him and his kind."

Groaning softly as he tried to shift his position, Munch muttered to himself.

"What I wouldn't give for the ability to change to another channel. Or at least control the volume."

There was another sound on the edge of Munch's hearing, but he couldn't quite make out what it was. It kind of reminded him of a news program playing too loudly in the apartment next door, but he seriously doubted his 'host' had cable in this building. Then he heard the one thing he really didn't want to hear.

"Hey! You inside! I'm here and my partner better damn well be alive!"

"Fin, are you crazy? Get out of-"

Munch's voice was cut off by a strangled cry of pain as Shoemaker's foot came down on his wounded leg and applied pressure. Shoemaker took another minute to grind his heel near the bullet's entry wound before calling out.

"Detective Tutuola. We've been expecting you. Come in and come in slowly or the next bullet going into the Jew will be fatal."

Keeping his pace slow and deliberate, Fin moved into Shoemaker's line of sight. The man had a pistol aimed right at Munch, but it was the way he started laughing that really got Fin on edge.

"What's so damn funny?"

"You. Coming in here wearing one of those vests? That might lend a little protection to you, but it won't do this refuse any good at all."

Shoemaker punctuated what he was saying by putting more weight on the wound to the point where Munch was fighting just to remain conscious.

"I ain't wearing this because of you. Don't you hear it, you crazy mother? You and the stupid shit you've pulled has started the rioting up again. You have any idea of the damage you've caused?"

From his position by the door, Derek signaled over to Rossi, who relayed the signal over to Hotch. The two hours had been spent clearing the immediate area of all civilians and setting up a portable sound system. The sounds coming over the speakers aimed at the boarded up building were ones gleaned by the combined efforts of Reid and Garcia from different internet vidoes of riots. Garcia had cleaned up them up and mixed them to make a realistic sounding mob scene. At the nod from Hotch, the volume was increased slightly.

On the inside, Fin watched apprehensively as the realization of what the background noise was dawned on Shoemaker. To his disgust, it almost appeared like the man was having an orgasm just from the thoughts of his success.

"Yes! Just as I was told by my Grandfather, it is finally happening as it should."

Making a gesture with his free hand, Shoemaker smiled.

"That is for my Grandfather. This is for my father."

With that, Shoemaker shifted his attention back to Munch, aiming for his head. Munch closed his eyes and braced himself. Fin quickly yelled out to try to break into the man's concentration.

"Whoa, whoa! What the hell has Munch got to do with your old man?"

The cold blue eyes flickered up to Fin.

"Your so-called partner never bothered to tell you? He followed my father to New York from Baltimore."

Figuring that there were really very few ways he could make his situation worse, Munch spoke up.

"I don't even know who the hell your father was, but regardless, I didn't follow anybody here from Baltimore."

"Liar! My father was Joseph Shoemaker. He'd traveled down to Baltimore in 1999 to attend a trial. He was supporting an old friend who was unjustly accused."

"Let me guess. That one was the guy that went into that family store and killed the Jewish couple that owned it."

"I knew you remembered. That was where you saw my father and targeted him."

"Hardly. I may have seen him, but the name means nothing. He wasn't even a big enough blip on my radar to register."

The man face was turning a deep red with his anger and that's when Derek decided to take his chance. Moving from concealment to out in the open, he yelled.

"FBI! Drop your weapon!"

Startled, Shoemaker reflexively shifted the aim of his gun toward Morgan. Fin drew his own gun during the distraction.

"You? Chicago?"

Derek didn't respond to that, he just yelled out the order again.

"I said drop it!"

Instead of complying, Shoemaker shifted his aim and fired at Tutuola. Fin and Derek returned fire in near unison and Shoemaker fell back, an expression of surprised disappointment on his face. Derek called over to Fin.

"Did he hit you?"

"Hell, he wasn't even close enough for me to feel the breeze. I'm fine."

At that, Derek headed over and kicked the pistol away from going closer to examine the downed man. Fin went straight over to Munch.

"Dammit, John. Didn't I tell you not to get shot?"

Munch's smile to his partner was more like a grimace, but Fin was happy to see it anyway. Still, Munch's voice was far too faint for his liking.

"Actually, I believe you told me to watch my ass. Which is not where I was shot for once."

Closing his eyes as he tried to take a deep breath that didn't quite work, Munch heard Derek talking over his handset.

"You can turn it off, Hotch. It's over. We need a medic and a coroner."

After that, Derek came over to the partners, pulling out the key to the cuffs and releasing Munch. He was seeing fresh blood and he didn't know how much blood the man had already lost.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"I can't take a deep breath, so I think I've got at least one broken rib. Not sure what other damage his kicking might have caused. He hit me hard enough in the head that I blacked out for awhile, so that along with the nausea? I'd guess I've got a concussion as well. How's the girl?"

"Traumatized. They've taken her to the hospital to check her over, but I don't think she was hurt. She was mad at you, you know?"

"Me?"

Fin gave his partner's shoulder a light squeeze. He could hear the Brooklyn SVU detectives coming in to search the building.

"She didn't understand why you'd told the man she wasn't Jewish. Morgan there explained it to her though. Then she wanted to know if we were going to come get you."

After considering that for a moment, Munch let out a heavy sigh and then went limp on them. Fortunately, the paramedics were coming over with Hotch. Tutuola didn't even notice Morgan's hand on his shoulder as he watched mutely while Munch was prepared for transport to the hospital.

Exchanging a glance with Hotch, who gave him a nod, Derek stayed by Fin's side, guiding the abnormally quiet man to the ambulance himself so that he could ride in with Munch. After watching the ambulance leave as the coroner's van arrived, Derek waited to show the coroner the way to the body before rejoining Hotch and Rossi to assist in the search.


	9. Chapter 9

**Part IX  
**  
Hospitals were not among Munch's favorite places to be. They didn't even hit the top 100. On his personal scale, he'd rather endure a probe on an alien spacecraft. Not that he wasn't already convinced that his nurse was from another planet. No-one remotely human could possibly be alive and have hands that cold. He also suspected her of using those artic hands of hers to chill the bedpan prior to handing it to him for use.

Munch was currently trying to amuse himself by reading a book that Fin had bought for him - 'UFOs, JFK and Elvis' written by some guy named Belzer. He was actually finding it fairly entertaining even though it really didn't add anything new to what he already knew on those conspiracy theories. He heard the door opening and subconsciously shivered as the thought of Nurse Iceberg-hands ran through his head.

To his relief and surprise, it was Derek, brown bag in hand. Munch marked his place and closed the book, setting on the small nightstand.

"Agent Morgan - come right on in. Pull up a bedpan and have a seat."

"I will in a minute. I just wanted to check to see if you were awake for a visitor."

Continuing to hold the door open, Derek moved to the side slightly. Even though Munch had never gotten a good look at her before, he didn't have any doubts who the six-year-old girl was. As she shyly stepped into the room, Derek started the introductions.

"The two of you never had a chance to before, so Detective John Munch, meet Miss Bracha Thompson."

Munch's voice took a softer tone that Derek hadn't hear the usually brash detective use before.

"Miss Bracha. I need to apologize to you, I didn't mean -"

What he was saying came to a stop as she suddenly rushed over to him and hugged him - thankfully grabbing hold of his arm, not his ribcage. Then he felt the wetness on his arm and knew she was crying. Crying females of any age tneded to get to to him even if he didn't always show it. He carefully shifted so that he could use his free hand to draw her slightly closer.

"Hey, it's okay. Let it out."

Movement at the door caught his attention and Munch saw a man moving to stand near Morgan, but the man's eyes were focused on the girl. He took an educated guess and spoke.

"Are you Bracha's father?"

The man had an accent that sounded Jamaican to Munch.

"Yes I am. Aaron Thompson. I just want to thank you for bringing her back to me. I could have lost everything."

Feeling at a slight loss because no-one had spoken to him about the case yet, Munch still noted the use of the singular her in the man's statement and again took a guess. He lifted the arm that Bracha wasn't attached to and offered it to him.

"Mister Thompson, I'm just sorry that we couldn't have done more."

They waited then until Bracha finished crying and was finally able to accept Munch's apology and give him her thanks in return. Derek just remained to the side, watching quietly until the father and daughter said their goodbyes and left.

"Feel better, Detective Munch?"

"Hey, we faced down a nut job and rescued Bracha together. Call me John."

In that case, call me Derek. Oh - might be slightly melted by now, but your regular partner said I should sneak you one of these. You're a milkshake man?"

"Fig?"

"Yep. Fig. You know, I don't think I've ever heard of a fig milkshake before."

"It is the nectar of the gods. Or at least of older Jewish detectives. Gimme."

Derek chuckled and surrendered the bag to Munch, watching as he unwrapped the straw and stuck it in to get his first sip.

"Keep an eye out for the nurses. They tend to be spoilsports. So, Derek? What happened after Fin and I left?"

Settling into the chair near Munch's bed, Derek gave a sigh.

"We found Bracha's mother like we were afraid we would. From the coroner's report, she probably died around the time Clary approached us."

"And that sick SOB killed her in front of Bracha?"

"Yeah. He did. That was one reason Mister Thompson agreed to let her come to see you. She was afraid he was going to come back after her again. Seeing you alive was her proof that he's not coming back ever."

"Good. I'm glad I was able to do something for her."

"You did plenty for her, John. She's alive and she's back with her dad. I've worked on so many cases where there's no happy ending for anyone that I'll take what victories I can see and hang onto them for all they're worth."

Munch nodded slowly.

"You have a point. This was far from a win, but it could have ended a helluva lot worse than it did. Bracha means blessing. That's as good a way to view the way this turned out as any. If he'd had his way, there'd be a lot more dead."

"Definately. You wouldn't believe the stockpile he had down in that basement. Brooklyn's bomb squad is still cleaning that up."

Taking another long sip of the shake, Munch shifted topics.

"You and your team heading off for redder pastures?"

Chuckling, Morgan leaned forward a bit.

"Can't say as I've heard it referred to that way before, John, but yes. We fly out tonight heading for Oklahoma."

"Oklahoma. The only state shaped like one of those foam 'we're number one' hands. Good luck on your case out there. You've got a good bunch. That Doctor Reid of yours intrigues me, but I think your Garcia would probably give me heart failure."

"My baby girl is special, that's a fact. With Reid, I doubt the two of you would run out of things to talk about – which is why I refuse to ever be in the same room with you and him. You both pull up enough random topics without any encouragement. Speaking of which, what was all that business with the mind control rays from New Jersey?"

"Well, I haven't found any other explanations for New Jersey, though I'm certainly willing to entertain other ideas."

Shaking his head, Derek rose from the chair and offered Munch his hand.

"You're one of a kind, John. Which is probably best for the world as we know it."

Taking the offered hand and shaking it firmly, Munch just smirked again.

"You have a valid point there, Derek. Hey, if my partner and your Italian ever do decide to elope, I'd take you in any time."

"Same here. Take care of yourself, John. Enjoy the milkshake."

"Oh I will – to both. Give my regards to the rest of the BAU team. I appreciated getting freed without gaining additional holes to my body."

"I will definitely give them your regards."

"Thanks. Oh, and Derek? For a one-night stand? You were great."

They parted then to the sound of Derek's laughter. Despite the dirty looks he got from a few of the nurses that he passed, Derek didn't manage to fully stop laughing until after he left the hospital.

_Laughter gives us distance. It allows us to step back from an event, deal with it and then move on. ~Bob Newhart_


End file.
